


Light in the Dark

by star_named_andy



Series: Paws-itivity [10]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Animal Transformation, Bard the Bowman/Thranduil - Freeform, Barduil - Freeform, Curses, Injury, M/M, Magic, Sexy Times, Some Swearing, Thranduil - Freeform, bard the bowman - Freeform, cat!Bard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 07:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11573421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/star_named_andy/pseuds/star_named_andy
Summary: Thranduil picks up searching for the runaway Bard, but runs into some unexpected trouble and a strange savior along the way. More is revealed about Bard's past as he remembers certain details, and the romance between he and Thranduil continues to unfold...





	Light in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> (Disclaimer: I do not own the Hobbit, Lord of the Rings, or any of its characters or content.)

Thranduil’s heart rate spiked upon discovering Bard gone – how many times a day could his pulse rise so dangerously fast without killing him? Surely he couldn’t survive much more stress than he had already endured that day with all of the emotional and physical highs and lows, yet there he was, standing in the bathroom doorway with the doorknob in his hand and the door itself hanging unevenly on its busted hinges as he stared into the empty room.

He raced toward the open window and thrust his head out into the rainy night, turning his head frantically and eyes searching unsuccessfully in the dark.

“Dammit!” he yelled, slamming his hands on the sill. There was no way of knowing when Bard escaped or where he was now.

As he spun around, Legolas was entering the bathroom with his dazed eyes showing rising glints of concern as he settled into consciousness.

“What’s going on? I heard…the door, I guess,” Legolas asked, rubbing his eye as he looked questionably at the damaged door.

“He’s gone!” Thranduil exclaimed and Legolas’ eyes shot wide open, suddenly highly alert.

The eldest zoomed past and hurried down the hall and stairway, the younger blonde following swiftly after him.

“I’ll grab the flashlights!” Legolas announced.

“You need to stay here in case he comes back. I’ll take the flashlights.”

“Alright,” Legolas agreed, hastily retrieving two flashlights and handing them over to his father. “Be careful. Keep me updated. I’ll let you know if anything happens here. Should I look outside?”

“He would have used the door if he wanted to hang around the house,” Thranduil said, slipping on a pair of sneakers. “Try calling Gandalf – he could be heading there. Lock all the windows and doors, alright?”

With a nod from Legolas, Thranduil swung himself out the front door and stormed to his car with the rain pelting down on him.

“Dad!” Legolas shouted. He ran out and tossed Thranduil a hooded sweatshirt, then waved as he ran back inside and closed his door on the unyielding storm.

Thranduil shoved the hoodie over his head before speeding out onto the slick road. He tried to handle the gas as delicately as possible as not to hydroplane and then get himself into a careless accident, but his need for caution fueled his irritation. One hand was clenched tight on the steering wheel, his knuckles white, while the other was tapping his leg furiously.

“Where the fuck did you go? _Why?_ ” he seethed quietly.

He was frantically trying to share his gaze with both sides of the road and the woods. His eyes were fleeting fast from one direction to another and he could hardly think – how would he spot anything in these conditions?

Thranduil decided that Bard wouldn’t be traveling on the road itself. He would know better, knowing that Thranduil would immediately take off to find him as soon as he had figured out he had left. He was most likely…

Thranduil slowed, pulling over onto the side of the road and turning on his hazard lights before hopping out with his hood up, flashlight in hand. He kept the beam of light on the side of the road. Bard was most likely traveling in the woods, but not too deep. Just far enough in to be out of the eyesight of drivers – at least, he was guessing that that was what he was doing. He tried to be confident in his guess, since it was all he had.

He scoped out the sandy edge of the road, which was now turning to stocking mud, looking intensely as if the small light he had was not enough to make him see what he wished was there. The rain would soon alter the kind of evidence he was seeking. And now that it was raining, Bard definitely wouldn’t be traipsing about in the open to get soaked.

He hurried alongside the road for a good stretch and then wistfully looked across the way, wondering if Bard had instead fled on that side of the road.

“GOD!” he shouted. He balled up his shaking fists and held them up to his temples, praying that some idea would just appear in his mind. He could either stalk both sides of the road, or delve into the woods at night in the pitch black with nothing to defend himself with, but other than that he saw no other solutions.

He threw his arms up into the air and started pacing around in circles. Anyone that may pass by would probably think he was insane. As much as he didn’t care, he didn’t want any trouble with people bothering him or calling the police, so he forced himself to stand still and take a breath.

Just then, he gasped and lowered himself to the ground, pointing his light directly in the face of a footprint. A bare, human foot! Well, if Bard could really be called _human_. But it had to be Bard’s foot. It _had_ to be, for Thranduil’s sanity.

Maybe Bard had kept along the road until it rained. It was impossible to tell, but Thranduil was thankful for one shred of evidence to point him in the right direction. The print was succeeded by a few others, veering off into the tree line.

Thranduil carefully trailed the prints into thin brush, but stopped as suddenly as the tracks did. They stopped right before a shrub.

Thranduil tensed and felt the urge to be absolutely silent and still as he gazed deep into the bush. He raised his light right onto it; there was no point in delaying making himself all the more known, seeing as if Bard was really hiding there, that he would have sensed or seen Thranduil by now. He took one slow step closer, and then lunged, plunging his hand inside the shrub and grabbing at the printed cloth.

It was immediately apparent he’d been tricked, as the cloth easily gathered in his hand and held no weight as he yanked it out.

“Shit,” he breathed in defeat, hanging his head low.

Bard had proved himself to be extremely unpredictable and more intelligent than he liked to let on at times, so Thranduil scolded himself for continuing to underestimate him. When it came to getting what he wanted, Bard was relentless, and clearly he did not want to be found.

“But _why_?” he questioned aloud.

Thranduil jogged back to the car to take brief refuge from the chilling storm. He peeled off the drenched hoodie and plucked a blanket from the back seat. It clung to his damp skin as he wrapped it around himself. He cranked the heat and wiped the drippings from his reddened nose.

He leaned back and began to trace traced through the day to search for an answer, wondering if perhaps he had said or done something that upset Bard to the point of leaving without making a…he got up to get ready for work, was lured back into bed and into a deep sleep by Bard’s wonderful massage skills, they all had breakfast, went over the map of areas familiar to Bard, and took off on their search for clues that would hopefully lead them to Bard’s children and his cure to his curse…

His phone buzzed and his heart jumped. The sliver of hope the vibration gave him faded as he read a disappointing text.

Legolas Greenleaf: Called Gandalf. He said he hasn’t seen Bard, but he’s keeping an eye out. He’ll call if anything happens.

“What do I do now?” Thranduil muttered, rubbing his forehead. Another buzz came, still with no good news.

Legolas Greenleaf: Any luck out there?

Thranduil didn’t bother reporting his dead end just yet and resumed his thinking. Next they followed the van to the abandoned hotel where Bard passed out and Thranduil faced the goons he caught exchanging caged creatures for money. His mind zeroed in on how enraged he was then, pulling a gun on that one man who pointed nastily at his dear son and his strange companion, the wretched man who shouted Bard’s name…

“That’s it!” Thranduil exclaimed. “Bard, you idiot!”

He threw himself out of the car and stalked back to where he found Bard’s decoy. Surely he wouldn’t remember how to get back to the hotel if he strayed too far from the road – he had to be near somewhere!

He trekked into the woods, shivering as droplets pierced his skin. He waved his flashlight around generously, swooping it up, down, left, right. He took extra caution in looking up at the shrouded treetops.

“Bard!” he called over the rain. He knew it was a long shot, given Bard had gone to this length already to get away from Thranduil, but he had to try. “It’s Thranduil! If you can hear me, please come out!”

As he stepped deeper into the foreign forest, the ground disappeared from beneath him. He dropped his light, feeling around desperately to catch himself, but he was too late, tumbling over the edge of the hidden hill. He cried out as he landed hard on one foot and an immediate, sharp pain followed that shot all through his body. He collapsed and landed his palms in a patch of thorny branches.

He sat up slowly, shaking from both the cold and the throbbing pain in his ankle.

“This can’t be happening,” Thranduil whispered. He reached for his ankle and only lightly touched it before he retracted his hand and bit down on it to stop himself from screaming. The holes and prickers burning in his hands didn’t compare to the outrageous agony radiating in his ankle. He shifted into a more comfortable position to try to stand from, but as soon as he started to lift himself he yelled and tears came gushing from his eyes, mixing with the rain staining his cheeks.

His flat, empty pockets meant he was stranded, unless he could crawl back to his car and call Legolas.

He attributed a rustling of leaves to the wind, but then there was a loud thud he could feel in the ground. He scooted back, teeth clenched hard, and pinned himself to the tree behind him. With his breathing shallow, he prayed that he wouldn’t have an encounter with a wild animal.

Heavy, thumping footsteps. He guessed and hoped it was a deer, but even they could be violent when stamping around in a territorial manner.

A blinding light flashed across his vision, and a voice rose above the sound of his heart pounding: “Thranduil?! Is that you?”

The small light came stalking toward him. As it neared, the round silhouette trailing behind it became clearer. As the figure bent down, craning its neck to investigate the poor lump that was Thranduil, the injured man finally relaxed.

“Radagast, what are you doing out here?” Thranduil breathed, squinting at the disheveled man. Radagast blinked at him, water dripping steadily from the brim of his wide hat.

“I was trying to photograph some owls, of course! But, what are _you_ doing here?”

“It’s Bard, he…he ran off…I was searching for him when I fell and hurt my ankle. I don’t think I can stand.”

“Oh, dear me! Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here!”

Radagast clenched his flashlight between his teeth, freeing his hands to guide Thranduil up from the ground. He slung a long arm around Radagast’s shoulder and leaned on him. He realized how much taller than Radagast he was, but he had no strength to spare to ease the burden of his weight from his strange savior. He hopped on his one good foot as Radagast carried the rest of him back to his car with impressive strength.

Radagast set him carefully in the passenger seat, but his comfort was brief once Radagast removed his shoe and started to wrap his ankle with his emergency ace bandages. He became uncontrollably stiff and gripped the seat so hard he poked holes through the leather.

Radagast tried to soothe him through his grunting, groaning, and jerking: “I promise you, it’s better it be kept this way until it can be treated properly. I know it hurts – I’m so very sorry,”

Once he bandage was on securely, Thranduil had a moment to breathe and collect what little composure he had left.

“Thank you, Radagast. I’m lucky to have crossed your path this night or I would have been stranded for who knows how long,” Thranduil said.

“Well, if it weren’t for your screaming, I would have never known you were out here!” Radagast commented as he laid the blanket over Thranduil’s shoulders. The blonde sat back, but his body remained tight and unrelaxed, anxiety still fueling him despite his exhaustion.

“This is quite the techy vehicle!” Radagast gaped, gazing at all of the buttons and switches in front of him. “Uh-erm, I think I should be able to navigate the basic controls to get you to the hospital.”

“No, we have to find Bard before anything else!” Thranduil cut in quickly. “He’s the one who’s in real danger. I know where he’s headed – at least, I’m fairly certain I do. We need to beat him there. I hate to ask this of you, but will you take to where I need to be? I’ll make sure you’re compensated handsomely for this favor. Anything you want is yours.”

“Say no more,” Radagast put his hand up and gave a sweet smile. “I’d do it even with any incentive. Bard, the handful he is, is family. Now, buckle up and tell me where to go!”

 

Thranduil told a little lie for the sake of keeping Legolas at home; if he told him that he was hurt and still out looking for Bard, there was no chance he’d stay behind. Instead Legolas was told that his father was still cruising about hopefully with an idea of where their “cat” may be hiding.

Radagast was unsure of the gas pedal at first, be adjusted after a few spurts of stop-and-go. The streets slowly became lined with lights, until everything was bright and clear. There were a few stragglers departing toward home as the last of the shops were closing up and Thranduil’s eyes devoured each one with a fervent desire to see Bard’s features in one of the wandering shapes. The wipers swept back and forth, erasing the few dots still trickling from the clouded sky.

“Keep an eye out for him,” Thranduil ordered.

“Don’t worry, I’m looking…you know, Bard has been a moody one ever since I met him. One minute he’s happy as a clam, and in the next the next the world is ending. Can’t really blame him for being that way. He’s in a rough spot and he’s scared. That, and when he shifts forms his hormones are unbalanced. There’s no way to stop it, really…even so, when he does reckless things like this…it’s awfully worrisome.” Radagast sighed with a shake of his head. “Poor fellow.”

“Did he do things like this when he was with Gandalf?”

“In the beginning, he did things like this all the time,” Radagast said with a soft chuckle. “It was quite the circus. Of course, he wanted to get back at those who hurt him and he wanted so badly to rescue his children, even though he didn’t know where to start looking. He slowed down after a while. I think he realized he couldn’t do it on his own, and Gandalf and I – well, we aren’t exactly spring chickens! We couldn’t go at his pace, and he needed a place to be that would keep him safe in both forms. His identity needed to be protected at all times if he was to be free. There are a lot of people out there who would love to get their hands on a creature like Bard. That scared him a lot.”

“I want to keep him safe, but it seems like he just won’t let me. Not easily, anyway. Legolas was easier than this when he was a _teenager_. I don’t know what I could possibly be doing wrong with Bard,” Thranduil trailed off, staring out the window.

“You didn’t necessarily do anything,” Radagast shrugged. “Anything can push Bard to these kinds of actions. It might have been something inside of him that caused him to take off.”

As they zoomed past the park bench planted in the sidewalk, Thranduil lurched forward, his forehead pressed hard against the window.

“STOP!” he shouted. He whipped his seatbelt off faster than Radagast slammed his foot on the brake. Both of them jerked forward at the sudden movement Radagast was spinning his head around frantically, his sight landing on Thranduil throwing his door open.

“Thranduil, _wait!_ You can’t walk!” he pleaded, fumbling with his seatbelt as Thranduil hopped out.

As soon as he let go of the door frame, Thranduil stumbled over the sidewalk’s edge and his knees hit the pavement. When he looked up, he was met with a heavenly sight. Every tight knot in his body uncoiled and he melted under the rain.

There was Bard, raised from his spot on the bench with golden eyes fixated on Thranduil in a mixture of concern, confusion, and guilt. With the toe of his shoe pointed on the ground, he was clearly ready to turn and run the second he decided to flee. He rocked backward slightly, teetering between staying and going.

Thranduil shot his hand out to him in a desperate reach. With his eyes he begged him with what his voice could not muster.

Bard stared intensely for a few seconds more before his expression softened and he dashed forward. He swiftly knelt and lifted his tired companion from the ground. He peeled a wet lock of hair, darker blonde than his usual, from Thranduil’s cheek.

“Thranduil!” Radagast cried, coming running around the car and stopping in awe as he saw Bard crouched there. “BARD! Oh, what a relief! Come, help me get him into the car and we’ll get you both dry.”

Bard complied, and it was a good thing he was since now Thranduil was truly limp. They laid him across the backseat, and before Bard could sit in the front Thranduil grabbed his hand gently and pulled him weakly forward.

“Stay close to me, Bard?” he asked quietly.

The brunette looked uneasy, his lips baring a queer frown and his shining eyes showing a sullen luster as the twinkling lights hit them. Thranduil managed to sit up to make just enough space for Bard to sit. He sat, with a gentle hurry, wanting not to hurt Thranduil or have his effort go wasted. Once seated, Thranduil’s head found coziness in Bard’s drenched lap. He closed his eyes, resting briefly as they made their way to the hospital, but his fear of waking without Bard near kept him from slipping out of his consciousness and into the slumber his body craved.

 

Radagast went in ahead of the other two to alert the staff of his injury. When he returned, he had a wheelchair and a nurse on his heel. Thranduil aided them in loading himself into the chair as best as he could, but every movement revived his pain. He was swiftly escorted to a private room (upon Thranduil’s insistence), and found that the hospital bed was far less comfortable than he expected.

Radagast remained in their company until the doctor saw him for the first time, examined the wounded ankle, and ordered x-rays and a dose of medication to soothe his persistent pain. Thranduil sent him off with fare for a cab to return to his car so he could return home safely with his photography gear. He left with a great deal of apologies, but Bard assured him he would stay in Thranduil’s company and that Legolas would retrieve them when the time came.

The two waited in a long stint of silence – something atypical for their relationship. Bard sat in a chair close to the bed, but not too close. His gaze stayed fixed on his fidgeting fingers and his shoes squeaked every time he moved his feet.

“Do you have any idea how scared I was?” Thranduil finally spoke. Neither of them looked at each other.

A pause.

"I'm sorry." Bard said, his voice small.

"Why were you going back there?"

“Where?”

“I know you were going back to that hotel. Why were you going there?”

“How do you know that?”

“There were men at the hotel, exchanging animal carriers for money. They caught us before we could get you out of there. One of them…he claimed to know you. He even knew your name.” Thranduil explained, his gaze growing sharp as he glared at the wall.

“What did he look like?” Bard ventured, his voice growing with his curiosity.

“Awful.”

“Other than that.”

“Dark curly hair, short and hunched, crooked smile, one eyebrow.” Thranduil shifted his eyes to Bard. “Sound familiar?”

The brunette gave a short nod. “I know him.”

“You remember?”

“Yes, now that you describe him. I can see him clearly in my mind.” Bard shook his head as if to fling the image of the man out of it.

“Who is he?” Thranduil asked lowly.

“A bad man.”

“I gathered that much. Who is he, _Bard?_ ” The way Thranduil spoke his name demanded the brunette’s attention to float upward to the blonde’s hardened expression. He blinked dolefully beneath his long lashes Thranduil gave him an encouraging nod. “I need to know.”

“His name was…Allen?...No, Alfrid – yeah, that’s what it was. _Alfrid_. He was the master’s right hand man.”

“I thought he was in jail?” Thranduil said as he sat up with alarm lacing his tone.

“So did I.”

“I wanted to kill him. I was ready to.”

“No!” Bard exclaimed, jumping from his chair, and Thranduil’s eyebrows shot up.

“What?” Thranduil snapped, his surprised eyebrows now creasing profoundly. He took a deep breath as he read Bard’s expression and proceeded slowly, as not to scare him off with his tone. “What do you mean _no?_ ”

“You’d go to prison!” Bard said, arms flying dramatically. “You can’t do that to Legolas! And, I…as much as I do hate him, I need him alive.”

“Tell me what happened when we went there, Bard. What did you remember?”

“When I saw the hotel, I remembered a lot of terrible things I almost wish I never remembered at all.” Bard explained hushedly. “I stayed there before, in between fights…with the master and Alfrid - there may have been others."

" _Stop_ calling him that," Thranduil cut in brusquely. 

"Huh?"

"Master - I can't stand it." He could feel his very veins throbbing at the thought of anyone telling Bard to call them by such a name. "He is not, never was, and never will be your master."

"I'm just used to calling him that, I guess..."

"He has no hold on you anymore. Don't call him that ever again, please..."

"Okay."

"Continue with what you were saying."

"I think the memories were just…too much for me to handle. So I blacked out. I wanted to go back there because I needed to see if I could remember anything about my children. I needed to try.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me that? I would have gone with you.”

Bard lashed him with a dagger-like scoff: “I didn’t tell you on purpose, obviously.”

Thranduil rolled his eyes. He knew this, but didn’t have the energy to fight with him. There was a stretch of silence between them again.

“I don’t want to expose you to everything I’ve lived through.” Bard huffed, squeezing his eyes shut. “I don’t want you to know… how _weak_ I was. I hated it. I couldn’t do anything to save myself or my family. I don’t want you to see me as something so pathetic.”

“We’re all weak sometimes. I don’t like it either. In fact, I’d say I hate it too, but it’s something we all live through in one way or another. I wouldn’t dare shame anyone for being human.”

Bard’s eyes flew open, his hues veiled with tears.

“But I’m _not human_.”

“No, you’re not.” Thranduil agreed easily. “You’re much more than that.”

Scarlet blush seized Bard’s dampened, freckled cheeks. Thranduil beckoned him closer, patting a spot on the bed next to him. Bard shook his head mutely and shyly stepped away. Thranduil reached out just in time to catch Bard’s wrist, his pulse fast and his skin hot. He pulled him forward and caressed the lines embedded in his tan skin. He was only slightly disturbed to see that, compared to Bard, his skin was much paler and cooler than normal.

“You’re so pale,” Bard whispered. “Paler than normal, anyway. And cold.”

“It’s been a hard night. You feel incredibly warm. Is it because I’m cold, or is it something else?”

“I’m not sure,” Bard said blankly, watching Thranduil’s fingers trail his skin.

“It’s nice. Come closer?”

Bard eased himself down onto the bed, glancing down at Thranduil’s elevated ankle.

“Now that I know Alfrid is out there, the danger is so much more real to me. I don’t want to put you or Legolas to get hurt…I’ve had the kind of hurt Alfrid can leave. I can’t stand to think of anything like that happening to you or Legolas. I need to find him. I’m not sure if my children ever stayed at that hotel with me, but I am sure that Alfrid knows where they are. I can’t let him get away.”

“The danger has always been real to me, Bard. I’m prepared to face it for you. I want you to be happy. I want you to be well. I want you to be safe.”

“I hate being scared, Thranduil.” Bard lamented, a tear rushing down his jaw.

“You don’t have to do this alone. I won’t let you. We'll win the game, both of us, and everything will be okay.”

Bard blinked at him in wonder, and gave the faintest hint of a smile. “It’s not fair to use my own words against me.”

“Not _against_ you, _for_ you. Your words often help me feel better…though I still feel cold.”

“I’d warm you up when we sleep tonight, but I don’t want to hurt you. I should probably sleep somewhere else.”

“We’ll worry about that later. Can you help me now?”

“Do you want another blanket?” Bard asked, standing hurriedly to fetch one, but Thranduil pulled him back down. He rested a chilling hand on Bard’s heated neck, making the brunette shiver. He sat up as far as he could manage. He took Bard’s baseball cap and set it aside, freeing his fluffy brown ears.

His whisper brushed against Bard’s trembling lips: “Kiss me, Bard. Just once, if you want to.”

Bard’s pupils swelled, his back straightened, and his ears perked straight up. His tail, trapped inside of his clothes, was erect and wildly puffed with excitement. “Oh, _I want to_ ,” he breathed, his voice deep with long-pent desire.

Thranduil shuddered at the sound of his voice. Their locked eyes were hazy with disbelief and yearning. Bard buried his hands in Thranduil’s dried tresses, eliciting a sweet sigh from the blonde. Bard did not hesitate to close the distance between them and smother that soft sound in Thranduil’s throat with that long awaited kiss. His lips were burning hot against Thranduil’s, sending warmth and vitality fluttering through him.

They kept their soft, desperate lips pressed together long and hard, neither wanting to break away from their precious moment. Thranduil dared to tear away from the moment to seek another, but just as he was ready to embrace Bard’s plush lips again, their bliss was interrupted at the news that the doctor would readjust the ankle himself without surgery.

 

Thranduil couldn’t fathom how he could go from paradise to agony so quickly. He thought he’d squeeze Bard’s very soul out of his body the way he squeezed his hand as the doctor shifted his bones back to their correct place. It became apparent that his dose of medication wasn’t nearly enough, once he started screaming.

Once it was over and his foot was placed in a garish cast, he was utterly fatigued. Bard doted on him constantly, asking how he was, if he needed food or water, offering to adjust his pillows, keeping his hair from his face. Thranduil tried to calm him, knowing he’d frightened him madly over all the yelling he did and all of the horrific sounds his ankle made during the adjustment, but Bard was entirely frantic.

“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault you got hurt in the first place! Can I do something for you? Anything? Please, let me help you!” Bard persisted over and over and _over_ , until finally he noticed he was really pushing Thranduil over the edge, seeing as irritation was somehow breaking through his exhausted expression.

Though ready for sleep, Thranduil was elated to see Legolas, and then his front door. Legolas hovered closely by as Thranduil entered with his crutches, knowing how tired and feeble he was feeling.

“I don’t think stairs are a good idea right now,” Legolas said, steering his father away from the staircase and toward the living room. “The couch is pretty comfortable. I think you should stay down here tonight, dad.”

Thranduil made no argument, just eager to lay down. Bard sped up the stairs and grabbed a collection of Thranduil’s cushiest pillows and the softest blanket. Legolas carefully held Thranduil’s leg as Bard stacked chair cushions beneath it. Pillows were placed to his liking beneath his head, his blanket fixed, a fan fetched, and a tall glass of cold water placed right within his reach. Thranduil never felt so pampered.

“If you need anything, just call me on my cellphone and I’ll come right down, okay? I mean it. I don’t want you getting up. You need your rest, so don’t hesitate to call me.” Legolas said, kneeling next to the couch with Thranduil’s hand in his. He rested his cheek against it. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I would have come if you had told me.”

“That’s exactly why I didn’t tell you,” Thranduil said with a cocky smirk, but Legolas was not amused by it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Well, all that matters now is that you’re home. I’ll let you get your sleep. I love you.”

“I love you, Leaf.”

Legolas hugged his father gently before reminding him again to call him if needed. He stood, and Bard was standing there, looking quite unsure of himself. Legolas gave him a nod, gesturing him to follow him into the hall.

“Why did you do that?” Legolas asked, his voice and eyes pleading, yet stern.

Bard’s ears shrank; he had fought with Thranduil before, but he’d never felt such tension radiating between to him from Legolas, the one who adored him and showered him with positivity from day one.

“I’m so sorry, Legolas. I truly am. If you don’t want me here, I understand, but I really care about you and Thranduil. I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s what I was trying to avoid.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want you here, so don’t be so dramatic.” Legolas scolded softly. “We care about you too. That’s why I’m upset…and I can tell my dad cares about you more than he admits. He’s a person who worries a lot, so don’t yank on his heart so much. Just…stay with us. Don’t sneak around and don’t keep any secrets. Next time I don’t think I’ll be so forgiving.”

“I understand…I’m sorry, again. I really owe you guys everything.”

“Just honesty and a permanent residency,” Legolas said, his voice lifting back toward its more jovial nature. He offered half a smile and sighed as he rubbed his eye. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting some sleep. You can sleep in dad’s room, or in mine if you’re lonely.”

“I think I’ll stay down here for a while, in case he needs anything.”

From there they parted. Bard’s heart still felt heavy, Legolas’ slier of a scowl ingrained in his mind, but he was still so kind and Bard considered himself so lucky.

He quietly entered the living room again and saw Thranduil’s eyes open through the darkness.

“Are you going to stay with me?” he asked, a smile curving his lips.

“I don’t want you to be alone in case you need something,” Bard said, sitting beside the couch.

Thranduil put his hand on top of Bard’s head, scratching lightly between his ears.

“Why so far away, hm? You’re usually insistent on clinging to me.”

“I don’t want to hurt your ankle, of course!”

“You’re part cat, skilled in gentility, so I doubt you would…but, whatever you want.”

“The one time you really _want_ me to cuddle and you have a messed up ankle,” Bard pouted, resting his head on the couch and letting Thranduil stroke his hair. A low hum rumbled in his chest.

“Thranduil?”

“Hm?”

“Will you ever want to kiss me again?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“When?”

“I want to kiss you now. I always want to kiss you.”

“R-Really?!” Bard exclaimed, his head popping up.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I-I don’t know,” Bard said, licking his lips as he stared at the outline of Thranduil’s. “If you want to, then I’m going to.”

“Please,”

Thranduil welcomed him with his fingers ghosting the hook of his jaw and his thumb tracing Bard’s bottom lip glistening with beads of wanton saliva. Bard pressed a kiss onto Thranduil’s thumb, but made the blonde jump and gasp when his tongue slid out and licked it, wrapped around it, and sucked it.

“That’s sort of an _advanced_ kiss, Bard,” Thranduil said, heart hammering against his chest as he sat up.

“I’m sorry,” Bard said meekly, his face reddening unbeknownst to Thranduil. “You didn’t like it?”

“It’s not that. Maybe we should save that kind of kiss for another time.”

“But why? You said you wanted to kiss me now…I want to give you the best I can, Thranduil.” He said deeply.

Oh, that voice again – was he doing it on purpose to entice him, Thranduil wondered? He suspected it was natural. Either way, he didn’t care. All he could focus on was the way he felt when Bard spoke to him like that.

As Thranduil bent closer to him, Bard rose to meet his lips eagerly. Thranduil smirked and pulled away. Bard bobbed up to claim his lips again, but Thranduil surprised him with his finger instead.

“ _Wait_ , Bard. Don’t be so impatient.” Bard dragged his tongue up his finger, sending a tingle up Thranduil’s spine. “You clearly aren’t listening,” he reprimanded shakily.

“I’m sorry, Thranduil. I just don’t like to be teased.” Bard said pitifully.

“Fine then,” Thranduil said, softly caressing the underside of Bard’s chin and summoning him forward.

Bard met his command happily, sighing contently as their lips melded together again. Bard was slow to match Thranduil, slowly parting, slowly drawing together again, and holding their lips perfectly in place. But as they kissed again and again, they both grew more impatient. Bard was quicker to lose his tolerance, but Thranduil met every hungry kiss that Bard sought. He pulled Bard closer and instead Bard climbed onto the couch, straddling his hips carefully.

Bard combed his fingers through Thranduil’s smooth locks from scalp to end over and over, loving how the silk glided over his skin. When Thranduil skimmed his cool tongue over Bard’s lip he closed the hair in his fists and opened for him. They fought each other calmly in smoothe, circular movements, but the battle grew more intense as Thranduil gripped Bard’s waist and Bard bit down on Thranduil’s pink lip, digging in and drawing a small spot of blood.

Thranduil grunted, squeezing Bard’s hips and seizing control of their heated string of kisses. All other thoughts that didn’t involve him thrusting up, tossing Bard onto his back, littering his neck with love bites, or doing anything he could to make Bard throw sweet noises of ecstasy carelessly into the night evaded him. Bard kept nipping at him and flicking his tongue over his in a way that was maddening. He was trying to overthrow his dominance, but Thranduil decided he wouldn’t allow it.

His palms slid over Bard’s hips as he fingers rubbed inside of his thighs, making Bard twitch and buck with a moan that satisfied Thranduil in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. He ran his hands all the way up the back of his thighs to his ass and smoothed over his plush cheeks, Bard’s tail swishing beneath his pants.

“Mmnn…”Bard moaned lowly and thrust himself into Thranduil’s chest as the blonde squeezed him gently.

If only he could see Bard’s gorgeous face, he thought…

Thranduil ceased all contact, pulling his lips and hands away, much to Bard’s protest.

“Wh-What’s wrong? Why did you stop that? It felt so good, Thranduil,” Bard pleaded.

“I’m sorry,” Thranduil panted. “I’d like to stop.”

“Oh…did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all. You’re perfect…but we only just kissed for the first time today. I don’t want to rush things between us right now.”

“Is it because of my tail?”

“No. Your tail is rather cute.”

“You can stroke it if you want.”

“ _Bard_ ,”

“Sorry…I just don’t know what human day will be my last. And I really like you.” Bard said, nuzzling his head into Thranduil’s neck.

“I know…” Thranduil said, rubbing Bard’s back. “I’ll break this curse if it takes me to the ends of the Earth. I don’t want to lose you…besides, I’d rather wait to do anything like this until my ankle is healed and we can be truly alone so I can make everything perfect for you. And I can see you, how beautiful you are…” His adrenaline falling, Thranduil sighed. “I really do need rest for my ankle to heal. I think tomorrow we should go shopping, so you should get some sleep too.”

“Shopping?”

“You need clothes of your own instead of wearing Legolas’.” Upon saying that, he was alost glad he couldn’t see Bard that well at the moment. That would be a bit odd, being intimate with someone in his son’s clothing…

“I don’t think you’re in any condition to go out.”

“We’ll just see how I feel tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay.” Bard said with a nod.

He hopped off of the couch and dragged a chair next to it. He curled up in the chair and Thranduil extended his hand out to him. They said their goodnights, and held hands until they finally hung limp in the depth of their much needed sleep.


End file.
